Nightmare
by ForgottenDespair
Summary: A story about Ghost and Roach and a fatal mistake. Will do a more sufficient summary and hopefully a more original, better title soon. T for language, let me know if I should continue. Takes place during the end of "The Hornet's Nest" and before their next mission. Hope you enjoy :D
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hey Guys, whats up? This is my first Call Of Duty fanfiction, based around two of my favorite characters, Ghost and Roach. I'm not entirely happy with this first chapter- I wrote it pretty darn early in the morning- despite my revisions. So, sorry if its not too good. It takes place during the end of The Hornet's Nest and before the next mission (Which I can't recall, its been awhile). So, if there's something that seems off, don't get too picky, since it's been ages since I've played MW2. Tell me what you think and if I should continue. Thanks guys, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Call of Duty franchise what so ever, if I did I would be filthy rich. So yep~**

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My heart was racing, pounding like drums in my ears, adrenaline pumping madly through my veins. The intense heat didn't help the situation- just made it that much worse. You could hear them shouting madly below us in some foreign language- trying to shoot us down as what was left of our team stampeded across the rooftops of the Favela, racing to the LZ. You could hear every single bullet whiz past your brain, like a hornet darting past your head at a thousand miles a minute, the smell of smoke and burning gunpowder filling your nostrils. The disturbing thing about that?

You could have been down with a piece of lead in your body not at that very moment, cold and lifeless.

"My friend, from up here, it looks like the whole village is trying to kill you!" A Russian voice boomed over the headset, directed towards the captain.

"Tell me something I don't know! Just be ready to pick us up!" Soap yelled over the enemy fire, racing to the second LZ. The first was under too much enemy fire for Nikolai to land safely. The fact we had to go to a new LZ didn't matter to me.

What mattered to me was that the rest of us got back to base, and hope we never returned to this god forsaken place.

No matter how much our lungs burned, how much we ached, we didn't stop running- we couldn't. If we did we'd be over run and all die-or worse. I've heard rumors of what they do to you, and I never, ever want to go through that hell and die in their hands. If I die, I want it to be fighting for my country, not to some cold-hearted Militia members, crying out for mercy.

How many fucking militia members were here anyways? There seemed to be no end to them, every time one dropped, one seemed to appear out of nowhere and take their place, as the man wasn't dying but simply dropping down behind cover, then back up.

Judging by how many were here, and how many rockets and bullets were flying our way, I was pretty sure these guys didn't even care about Rojas's death, or the fact we got more Intel on Makarov, they just wanted us dead, our blood imprinting the ground as a marker for our deaths. After their first two kills, it seemed they turned into a shark, getting a little taste of blood. The slightest taste and they were in a frenzy, wanting more and more and more till they couldn't possibly take anymore, and wait for their next drop, their next victim.

Weren't two pairs of tags enough for them already? Wasn't the satisfaction that they just lowered out ranks by two and made me watch my two best friends in the rank die by their hands enough?

The second LZ was dead ahead, the helicopter already in sight,getting ready to drop in the air by the building, so we could get out of the Favela as quickly as possible. Just a few more rooftops and we would be safe inside it. We could go back to base, for at least a little while, and recover. That sounded nice. Maybe we won't even have a mission for a while, after everything Ive seen that would make my day.

I was bringing up the rear, Soap a few paces up ahead. We were almost there, we were so close, you could just barely feel the blades spitting wind in our direction, stirring up dust and dirt settled on the rooftops. As we headed into the next roof, he began shouting.

"We're almost there! Just a little bit-"

_Crack!_

It took me a few mere moments to figure out what was happening.

_...There's nothing beneath my feet..._

_...What happened to the roof?_

_What happened to the goddamn roof!?_

Panic struck as I began to fall, and I felt paralyzed. Not that I couldn't move. You know, that kind where you're so scared, so afraid, that you can't scream or cry or shout. All you can do is sit there like a man with his mouth sewn shut, only able to scream through his eyes, filled with intense horror, as if you've just seen your worst nightmare come to life right before your eyes.

In that split second where I began to fall, as I was descending to what I assumed would be my demise, I saw a familiar face peer over the hole, reached his outstretched hand as far it would reach with out him tumbling down after me, trying to grab me. I reached my own hand up, and everything felt like it slowed down.

Our hands got closer...

_I'm not going to die_

...And closer...

_I can go back with Ghost_

...And closer still...

_...I can tell him how I really feel._

A slight sense of relief, just the slightest, fills me as I feel my hand brush his, and clasp tightly, each breath shaky, still shocked at the events that just occurred. I wasn't dead.

For the moment.

My heart beat feels like its increased tenfold, and I'm still in a wave a panic, dangling a few stories above the bottom of the building. Trying to calm down, I look up at the lieutenant's face, covered by his intimidating mask and sunglasses, dark as night, beginning to fall off.

I could barely see his eyes behind them. Not the color, sadly, but I now at least know he had some sort of eyes.

"Don't let go, please don't let go," I hear myself plead, feeling tears forming in my eyes. I hated crying, no one else in the Task Force cried but me. And every time someone caught me, I'd usually be picked on and be called a baby. Most of time it was Royce or Meat. But, I didn't care, I was so terrified. I don't want to be the third on this mission, I don't want to die. And he knows it, he knows how scared I am and he sees those tears in my eyes, just by the way he's acting.

"I got you bug, don't worry," The British man said as calmly as he could, but you could just barely near the panic in his own voice as he began grasping tighter, "I won't let go, I promise. Just hold on, I'll get you up!"

Ghost quickly began trying to pull me out, calling out to Soap for help as he struggled. Slowly, I find myself being lifted out, little by little, thoughts rushing through my head wildly.

_I'm not going to die, I can fight another day_

_I won't be the third casualty_

_I can go home when this is wars over_

_Everything's going to be okay_

"Almost there," he shouted above the sound of bullets, ripping through the air like a knife, "Just one more quick min-"

He stops mid sentence, and freezes as if he were a statue, lifeless in every way. I had no clue why he stopped, and I get anxious, and start calling his name quietly, finding myself unable to shout. I barely make out Soap shouting his name as Ghost began slowly coughing and sputtering, then it kept getting worse and worse, like a wild fire slowly consuming a forest. Red began to stain his uniform and mask. The realization hits me as soon as his grip loosens, and an even worse wave a terror rolls through me like thunder.

"_Ghost_!" I managed to scream, so loudly my lungs burned as if they were on fire, and I feel myself crashing through another floor before the light fades to nothing.

The last thing I remember was hearing someone yell Roach, and the skeleton being pulled away from the hole in the roof, and I realize something else.

Ghost, for the first time I think I've ever seen, had a look of severe panic and sorrow in his eyes.

He'd broken his one promise.

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**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. Remember, if you want more, leave a review! Also feel free to check out my Left 4 Dead story, His Angel, her Guardian (Chapter 5 coming soon guys c:)**

**Stay Beautiful/Handsome ;D.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hey guys, me again! You know, I have a feeling I'll be writing about Ghost and Roach a lot. Im sorry, but they're my favorite characters. And you guys made them my favorite pairing of all time, after lurking on this site for years. So thanks for getting me addicted to this pairing. Its beautiful.**

**So, you can expect every chapter to end up like this, one in Roach's P.O.V, one in Ghost's. Maybe in a chapter it'll have both, who knows. As of right now, all I know I'm getting into this story.**

**Next I'll be writing the next chapter for His Angel, Her Guardian, and maybe a Resident Evil short in between. Also, thanks for the reviews for Remember Me, I really do appreciate and honestly, it's kinda close to me. It's not just about Ghost and Roach, every story has a back meaning, a backbone, if you will. Its also about a dream, a desire, a _hope_ I have. If there is an afterlife, all I want is to see him again. That'd make me complete again**

**Enough of my rambling, enjoy the chapter the chapter guys, you're awesome.**

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_Crack_

Roach is the only desperate thought racing through my mind as that horrid noise explodes behind us, and I find myself immediately turning around, running towards the hole in the roof, weaving through a mad maze of enemy fire. Bullets were flying mad everywhere, desperately trying to shoot at least one of us down. The militia were determined to get more blood and more blood. If you were lucky enough to get a look at their faces, and they weren't covered by rags, you could see the determination in their face, showing no mercy as they fired madly at us. They no longer had any feeling, any emotion, only the desire to kill, to follow the will of their leader, without a thought or doubt in their minds. They had become machines. Cold, thoughtless machines. In my mind, that's no way for a soldier to be. Not at all.

He better thank me for going back for his ass.

When I finally reach the gaping hole in the ceiling, I stumbled backwards as an RPG flew in front of my face, missing by a few inches. I could feel the air rush past my face, the heat of the rocket, the smothering, burning smell of it. I was surprise my bloody mask didn't get burned to a crisp. Or worse. Slightly shaken, I quickly drop to my stomach, in an attempt to not get shot. The sun beat harshly down on my back; ever since we stepped foot in this god forsaken place it feels like it's been sucking the life out of me.

The minute we get out of here, I'm going to make my point very clear to Soap. I'm _never_ stepping foot here again.

I crawl over to the opening, quickly staring down at the darkened street below. The second I caught a glimpse of him, I shot my hand down as far as it would go, and he quickly clasped my hand, holding tightly. I clasped back, breathing nearly as heavily as he was.

The easy part was over.

His forest green eyes are full of immense terror, his entire body shook as if he were sitting in a patch of snow in nothing but a pair of beach shorts. He looked up at me, his eyes wide, full of terror and relief all at the same time, brimming with tears.

"Don't let go, please don't let go," He desperately pleads above the whine of bullets going on above us. They were aiming closer to me now- I could feel a bullet just barely miss me, and new panic begins to arise in me. I realize there's a great possibility I could get shot helping the terrified man clinging to my hand, no doubt about it.

But for my bug, it was worth it.

I can barely keep my voice calm as I reassure him, "I got you bug, don't worry." I grip his hand tighter, "I won't let go, I promise. Just hold on, I'll get you up!"

But how, when there was a net of bullets, crisscrossing dangerously close over me, threatening to land on me at any moment. The chance of dying was even stronger than before.

I'm going to have to take that risk. Three men are better than four.

I begin to pull him up, and begin realize how heavy the sergeant seemed. Bloody hell, what does the kid eat? He's heavier than a baby elephant! He's not even that chubby- he's more likely the skinniest of the 141. Maybe it's this heat; it's beginning to take a toll on me. My uniform was sticking to my body, making it uncomfortable to move around in.

"Soap! Give me some bloody cover!" I yell, pulling Roach out of the hole, little by little. I hear more bullets now- whether they're Soaps or the Militias I don't know. I just know I need to get Roach out of this hole and in the chopper, as soon as possible.

I can hear the Militia's screams growing louder, shouting what I assume are a mixture of orders and threats in a foreign language of which I'm unsure of. Their bullets whiz by my face, and it sounds more like a thousand angry hornets surging around me, ready to sting at any moment. I need to hurry my ass up.

After what feels like hours, Roach is almost out, we're so close. Relief begins to surge through me as I begin to reassure him once again.

"Almost there, just one more quick min-"

...It starts up like a fire from the start, slowly building and building in my chest until it becomes an unbearable, burning pain, and it slowly spreads thorough out my body, the flame engulfing me whole. It felt like a million nails had just been pounded through my body slowly, one by one, creating a seemingly everlasting pain. I can' move, I can't scream, only sit there in the burning fire.

Any and all sounds blends together- the screams, the bullets, the chopper- making only nonsensical noise. I can't make out anything, but I swear I can hear Roach's voice somewhere. Everything's getting blurrier and blurrier by the second, and darkness begins to creep in from my peripheral vision, the pain getting gradually more immense.

I find myself beginning to cough, getting more and more violent each second. Something warm and sticky is covering the front of my mask, and I feel some on my chest, where the volcano of pain originally erupted. It's getting harder and harder to stay conscious. I hear a familiar voice before I feel something slip from my hand as I begin to fall forward. When a rough hand grabs the back of my uniform, keeping me from tumbling down like a rag-doll, my heart swells up with pure terror as I realize what I had just done.

I can just barely make out a blurry form of a soldier, falling down onto the street below, before my vision goes black, the sound of his gut-wrenching, inhumane screams haunting my mind as I fall unconscious.

_...Roach, I'm so sorry..._

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**Man, this first person view is kinda tricky. I'm to used to third- I believe it's third person.**

**So, anyways, what will happen to our lovable bug now? Will Ghost live on? Find out next chapter! Remember to Rate and Review, Follow, whatever, and I'd love some feedback on how I can improve. I never have written in first person before this story, so I'm still getting myself used to it. Any tips are greatly appreciated. Thank you, you dashing person you**!

**Stay beautiful and handsome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hey guys, hows it going? So here's whats going to happen. Hopefully, I will finish the first draft of my other story tonight, and upload it sometime tomorrow. If anything, it'll be up Saturday. I will not be around on Sunday, possibly the week following, I'm not quite sure. **

**Also, to the guest who reviewed my last chapter, I hope you get out of the hospital soon, and feel better as well c:! Whatever it is, I hope it isn't serious.**

**Last thing, this chapter _is _a bit short, my apologies. The next few chapters I'll do my best to make longer. Also, anything that seems a bit out of place is some-what intentional. I was trying to get into more of Roach's character, trying to take how I imagine him being, his personality, and put it into the writing. So, yep.**

**Enjoy!**

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"_Roach! Roach!_"

I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to clear my vision. I'm on a street somewhere, some sort of alley more like. There's a strange light on the building in front of me, radiating an almost menacing red. I slowly shift upright, uttering a groan as I feel a dull pain in my shoulder, shooting down my entire arm. What the hell did I do to it?

I glance up at the hole above me, and every horrid detail rushes back. The roof, the chopper, my terror, and Ghost. I hear Soap's voice shout across the comm. As I relived the moment, sounding frantic.

"_Roach, listen to me, we don't have a lot of time. The whole fucking militias coming after you! I'm going to guide you to a new LZ to pick you up, but you got to hurry, alright? Go through the building to your left, now!"_

I take a second to look at the street ahead, and I feel my blood turn cold. The shadows of the enemy were dancing among the wall, heading straight towards me. A bullet of panic strikes my heart as I scramble up, ignoring the pain in my shoulder, and dart through the building to my left, running across the rooftop.

_"We've only got thirty seconds, Roach, were almost at bingo here! Right!"_

I change directions quickly, darting right as an explosion of bullets are fired behind me, hitting nothing but air.

_"Down there, into that house, go!"  
_  
I drop onto my back, sliding down through a narrow window, into a house of some sort. Scrambling up, I run out through the opposite window, facing a large span of roofs.

_"Almost there Roach, run!"_

I begin sprinting down the span of rooftops, a wave of panic hitting me. Not because of the militia, waiting for their moment to strike, not because of the chance I might not make it. Not even of the chance that I'd fall through another roof-I swear to God if I do, though, I'll be pissed as _hell_.

I was in a state of hysteria because of what else I heard when Soap was talking to me.

Someone in the background sounded like they were coughing profusely, trying to breath. But, at the same time, it almost sounded like they were trying to say something, something vaguely familiar. I couldn't think of what, but I do know one thing.

I'm almost positive on who it was.

I'm almost there, just two roofs away. That's when the chopper flies up into view, a ladder dangling off of the landing rail. The blades were spinning around furiously, buffeting my face with wind as I got closer, sending dirt and dust flying everywhere.

One rooftop away.

Almost there.

_"Jump Roach, jump now!"_

More coughing.

A leap of faith.

A glimmer of hope.

…The shine of a scope in the corner of my eye, caught far too late.

Bam.

_"Roach!"_

The pain is excruciating, sending horrible, burning, seemingly endless pain throughout my body. I feel as though I'm going to explode from all of it building up inside me, taking my breath away. My hands still outstretched, reaching for the bottom rung of the ladder. Maybe, I think, maybe I can grab it, and hold on just long enough for Soap to pull me into the chopper. Please God, please.

…My hand merely brushes the bottom rung as I begin to descend, falling towards the Favela street below.

I've never screamed louder in my life. My lungs ached, my whole body hurt. How can a human handle this much pain, can one his horrid even exist?

When my head finally makes contact with the burning hot street, it feels like someone was smashing my head with an iron bar over and over again, with all the strength a man could possibly muster. I end up passing out immediately.

...Voices. There are two voices right above me. With a groan, I open my eyes to slits and see the least two people I could possibly ever want to see, their backs to me, talking in gibberish. They were engaged in some sort of conversation, probably something among the lines of what they were going to do with me. This isn't good.

Then I realized what was about to happen. If they knew I'm still alive- which they probably do- they'd take me. No doubt about it, I was toast. And not the good toast, either. The really burned and icky piece no one likes kinda toast. I've heard stories about what they do.

I gotta get out of here.

At the moment, they seem distracted. Now's my chance. I carefully and quietly turn onto my stomach, beginning to crawl away as quietly as I could, ignoring the rocks dragging against my skin. Before I even get three feet away, a volt of pain shoots through me as a boot slammed down on my back, as though he was squishing a bug...a roach. Me.

As I gasp in pain, my head falling back onto the gravel, the men just...laugh. They _enjoyed _my pain. These people weren't human... they were beasts_. _Cold, merciless beasts.

I have a feeling this won't be fun.

A hand grabs my arm tightly, as if trying to suffocate it as he lifts his foot, flipping me over harshly, making me bite my lip to prevent myself from crying out again.

I wouldn't satisfy them with my pain. I don't care if they kill me in the end- I refuse to be their toy for their own amusement. I would be strong... like Ghost. Plus, I know they'll come find me. They wouldn't forget about me...or, at least, I don't think so. I hope they don't.

The two men study me for a bit before one of them crouches down, a demented look in his eyes, and he gives a small smirk. He lifts his fist, and slams it down at my face, and the world faded away once again.

...God help me...please...

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**Thanks for reading, remember to review and follow and everything else you guys do! Stay Beautiful and Handsome ;D!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sup guys?**

**Yea, I know I forgot to update for about 3 months...again. I apologize about that. Quite hectic, to be honest. Anywho, I remembered I had this saved on here- I simply forgot to revise and upload. Soo, here's the next chapter of Nightmare, and I will try to update His Angel, Her Guardian, ASAP. Promise. I swear. Don't hate me.**

**By the way, since I missed it, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year everyone! Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! Get anything good this year?**

**Alright, enjoy the story. Cya guys at the bottom.**

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I open my eyes slowly, glancing around in a daze. Soap was shouting to someone into the comm., his words quick and urgent. The chopper was flying around the Favela, to where I was unsure. Something was wrapped tightly around my chest, making breathing just the slightest bit more difficult than it already was. Someone had propped me up against the opposite side of the small aircraft, against the seats. I reach up, my hand lightly feeling my cheek, and my blood turns cold. My mask was gone.

Whoever took it is going to be in bloody trouble.

I notice my head was pounding, and I felt like something was in my chest, causing me to break out in a violent cough. It was both soothing and painful in a twisted, sweet way. It was helping to relieve the feeling something was in my chest, but it hurt every time I coughed. I held my hand up to my mouth at one point during this outburst, pulling it back after a moment. It was splotched with a bright, slightly bubbly red liquid, which also was staining the gauze around my chest. I had a feeling I wouldn't be on a mission any time soon.

Soap yelled something into the comm. again, more urgency filled in his voice. "Almost there Roach, run!"

Roach! He was alive! A mixture of emotions began to swell up inside me. "Roach, I-" I began to say, but was interrupted as another violent bout of coughs came over me, causing me to double over as I struggle to both stop, and get a breath of air.

"Everything's alright Ghost, just settle down, or you'll make it worse," Soap said, rushing over to my side and leaned me back against the seats again."Just whatever you do, don't lie down!"

Why I couldn't lie down, I don't know, but I do what he says, holding a hand up to my chest as the pain continues to build, slowly beginning to overwhelm me. His voice seems more distant now. "We just got to get Roach and then we'll get back to base, just hang in there Ghost!"

I manage to give a small nod as I continued my fit, holding my hand up to my chest, hoping for the best. I haven't been shot this bad in a while. I felt the chopper rise up, and I just barely catch a glimpse of a soldier racing down rooftops, holding his arm as he did, an expression of terror and pain mixed in his eyes.

Roach.

"Jump, Roach, jump now!"

A few moments pass, and I can just barely hear a sniper bullet fire through the air.

Toad and Archer weren't on this mission.

Let it miss.

"Roach!"

A terrible, gut-wrenching scream tears through the air, sharper than a knife. My stomach lurches, and I feel myself begin to shake.

No...

Oh, God no…

The chopper begins to fly away from the Favela, the cluster of buildings shrinking into the distance.

We can't go yet! Roach is still down there!

My coughs grow more and more violent, and my body is finally unable to take it anymore. I let my head fall limp, unable to hold it up anymore. As the darkness begins to devour me, I only hope this is the end to yet another horrid nightmare.

I awake to find myself lying in a bed, my upper half somewhat elevated. The pain in my chest decreased drastically, now it was only a slight sting, nothing as bad as the pain earlier. Whatever had been in my chest was no longer present, and breathing was much better. I glanced around the room, feeling slightly relieved I was no longer on the chopper, but instead in the medical ward of the base. Beds with pure white sheets lined the walls of the rather plain room.

"Glad to see you're awake."

I glanced over at the bush-man- Why did he always wear that goddamn suit anyway? It seemed he never took it off. The only way you can tell him and the other sniper apart was their voice.

"You're pretty lucky, you know. I don't think you would of made it f you got here any later. You got shot in one your lungs and the blood got into them. That's why you were coughing so badly. You're going to need to rest for a while though before going back out into battle, alright?"

"Is he safe?"

Archer stares at me from behind his wall of leaves, I can't see his eyes but I can feel them boring into me, making me shift uncomfortably.

I didn't need an answer; he and I both know what it would be.

"Did they even _try_ to go back for him?"

"...No. Nikolai had to get you two out- he was almost out of fuel. And you would have died, S-"

"Don't."

I highly despised anyone calling me by my real name. Meat learned that the hard way a few months ago.

Silence overtook the room again, and I look the opposite way with a sigh.

"We_ are_ going to get him, right?"

The bush man walked over, gently grabbing my arm. "Soaps trying to get permission from Shepherd, but he hasn't heard anything yet. Until then...we just have to hope he's okay. He_ is_ a Roach after all."

I give a small nod, not entirely convinced.

"Hold still."

I do as he asks, holding still as the needle pierces my skin. I've grown used to the sting.

After injecting the liquid, he pulls it out and walks back over to the table. Before he leaves, he says one final thing.

"He'll be fine Ghost, don't worry. We'll get him."

He walks out the door, leaving me alone in the room with my thoughts. I try to find some type of relief in Archer's words, but I can't. I know Roach. He's still just a kid, to be honest. The bug still bloody watches cartoons, for God's sake. They'll break him in the first ten minutes. My chest gets another strange feeling, except this time not from the bullet. I lay my head down, feeling something wet trick down my face.

Let me be wrong for once.

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**AN: Alright, honestly this isn't my best. I know a few things I gotta fix- still gotta get used to writing in this viewpoint. Anyways, review, like, make sure you subscribe (I suppose) if you want more. If you like this, check out my others as well. **

**Alright, cya guys!**


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